If I run away to find God, then am I really running away to find myself?

The truth is I think I found Him and somewhere in that, I think I found myself.

I came out here not only because I love the desert but because the Native Americans believe there are vortexes here that harness spiritual energy, or the very energy of God.

All I can say is that it is completely overwhelming.

It was a day of tears. But good tears. Cleansing ones.

Of listening to the wind.

Of hearing the very voice of God. And by extension, listening to myself.

I don’t want to go home. I know I have to, but I have found a certain kind of peace that is inexplicable.

It started when these tiny little pieces of paper literally flew out of my hand. I watched them. ANGER. It was the first to go. It flew right off of a rock. CONFUSION. It floated downstream.

Strange because at some point I stopped. And I had four more emotions in my pocket. Then, I stopped to see the sunset, and when I pulled my camera out of my pocket, the last four pieces of paper flew out. I watched them dance across the red sand. Somewhere deep inside my soul was smiling because I couldn’t help but dance along with the paper. I know it had to be a strange sight as tears streamed down my sunglasses-covered face.

From one of the vortexes flows a stream of water. I walked in it barefoot and listened to the wind in the trees. It was as though the entire rest of the world had disappeared. And for a few moments, I truly felt my place.

This is one of those experiences that I wish I could prolong for an eternity, knowing full well that doing so would not be good for me. It would be easier, yes, but not as fulfilling.

I think that I have accepted that the things I choose to do, the people I choose to be around, will always cause pain.

I have also accepted that I know how to take care of myself. I’ve had lots of practice. And if that means running off the beaten path and looking for God in the rocks, then that’s what it means.

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